Baby Mockingjay
by shalom378
Summary: Peeta wants a baby. Katniss? Not so much. What will it take for them to be happy? (We all know I don't own Hunger Games, just pipe down ;))


**Hey-oh! Sorry I haven't written in awhile, but be sure to listen out for my new Jack Frost story! Coming soon to a FanFic near you ;)! For now, here's a little tid-bit to satisfy your cravings.**

_MARCH_

I pace back and forth in the small bathroom, the cold flooring seeping through my socks. I take a deep breath and pick up a small plastic object from the countertop. _No… _I grab the instruction manual and feverishly read through the directions: _Easy to read results - two lines means pregnant and one line means not pregnant. _I lean my head against the wall and slowly slide down to a sitting position where I stare numbly at the pregnancy test. Two pink lines are faintly illuminated on the small screen. _Pregnant. _The last thing on earth I need or want is a child- a child to grow up here, learning of my horrible past bit by bit… A knock on the door jumps me to me senses. "Katniss?" Peeta's soft voice comes wafting in from the other side. "Your mom just called, she wants you to come over and help her with… Katniss?" Peeta knocks again. I stand up and open the door a crack. "Umm. Is everything okay?" His blue eyes are filled with concern, and I debate telling the truth in my head. "Yes." I say. Peeta frowns. "Liar. What's wrong?" My eyes shift to the box on the counter for a split second too long. Peeta gently pries my hand off the door, and my heart jumps into my throat as he picks up the box. I press my hand to my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut as I hear the packaging rustling- then a few seconds of silence. I wait like this for what seems like an eternity until I feel Peeta's firm embrace surround me, and I lose it. My head bowed with grief, my shoulders shaking, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. Peeta slides his arm underneath my legs and lifts me off the floor, cradling me in his strong arms. I cling to his neck, my tears dripping onto his linen shirt. "_Shhh_…" he whispers, his warm breath tickling my neck. I am vaguely aware of movement, and realize I'm in bed. I fall asleep with the lingering taste of salty tears.

_JULY_

I soak in the sun's golden fingers on my bare neck as an assortment of chickens scatter away from my feet, clucking nervously. I hitch my skirt up and stretch for a brown egg lying on the ground, but my extended stomach limits my reach considerably. My eyes roll when I hear Peeta's chuckle from behind. "Can't reach it, can you?" he teases. "Shut up, Peeta." I straighten up and rub a sore spot on my neck, and before I can protest his thumbs gently prod the hurt, chasing away the last bits of pain with his magic touch. I nearly swoon from pleasure, but I say sullenly, "Remember the last time your hands were around my neck?" His hands falter for a moment, then resume massaging. "I know you're in pain and that's why we're not having a repeat of the Capitol-crazed me." I snort, a grin tilting my mouth. Peeta turns me around and puts his hands on my shoulders, and I'm shocked to feel a tear slipping down my cheek; he flicks it gently away with a finger and pulls me into a hug. I can cry so easily these days- damn hormones. A small flutter comes from deep inside me, I gasp and pull away from Peeta, laying a hand on my stomach. "It's…" Peeta's hand joins mine, and his face lights up in a soft smile. There are no words to express.

_October_

The pains start at three in the morning. Just small, innocent. But by the time Peeta leaves for work at ten I know this isn't a drill. Gathering all my strength, I stand and shaky dial the Mellark Bakery. A gruff voice answers. "Hello?" "Mr. Mellark, I-" a sharp pain whips up my spinal cord, cutting off my words and sends black spots before my eyes. I must have made a noise because the phone gives a burst of static, and Peeta's voice slides into my consciousness. "_Katniss? Katnissss…"_ The last thing I remember before hitting the floor is a sticky, maroon-colored liquid gushing onto the tiles.

"_Katniss? Kat_niss!"

My eyes fly open and my heartbeat skyrockets. _Where is… _"Peeta!"

"Katniss! I'm here," Peeta's reassuring hand slips into my left and his other hand brushes stray pieces of hair from my sweaty forehead. I begin to ask where we are when a contraction slices through my core. By the end of it I'm afraid I'm broken Peeta's hand.

***GASP* Don't leave me hanging, you say? Well, all right... I'll see what I can do- IF this story gets good reviews I SHALL continue ;). Okay, but Jack Frost coming up! Review! Subscribe! All that jazz!**


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